


Something Missing

by Banashee



Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [16]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Canon Temporary Character Death, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Loss, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Phil Coulson Needs a Hug, Phil Coulson lives, Temporary Character Death, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:55:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24844921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Banashee/pseuds/Banashee
Summary: "(...)It’s hard to explain this feeling.One one hand, Phil is incredibly happy and relieved that he’s able to see and talk to his friends again, being able to touch. It feels right, like coming back home.But the tell tale headache keeps bothering him, and it tells him that there is something he’s missing.Sometimes, everything feels just right. But sometimes, he can see a strange look on Clints face when he isn’t aware that Phil can see it. Sometimes, it’s like he holds back onto something, stopping himself before he says something. Other times, it’s like he wants to reach out and just stops, thinking better of it.(...)"*+~Part 16 of my Bad Things Happen BingoSquare "Came back wrong"
Relationships: Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton & Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov, Clint Barton/Phil Coulson, Phil Coulson & Natasha Romanov
Series: Bad Things Happen Bingo [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701046
Comments: 8
Kudos: 59
Collections: Bad Things Happen Bingo





	Something Missing

**Author's Note:**

> Hi,  
> so, because I love a good writing challenge, I'm now taking a part in the Bad Things Happen Bingo.  
> https://badthingshappenbingo.tumblr.com/  
> Please mind the tags!
> 
> I'm cross-posting this to my tumblr, https://banashee.tumblr.com
> 
> This is my sixteenth square: "Came back wrong".

****

**Something missing**

They say he’s fine, but Phil knows there is something missing from him. 

He can’t put his finger on it and it’s not like anyone will actually tell him anything - he’s alive and should be happy about the recovery, they tell him with smiles that are too bright and too false on their faces - a cheerful facade. 

Phil wants to shake them all and demand answers, but he doesn’t. He’s not sure who is telling him the truth anymore, so he acts like everything is normal. As quickly as he possibly can, he goes back into the field - he’s got a new team now, since Strike Team Delta are now full time Avengers as he’s been told. 

Which is true, but Phil also knows that there is something they don’t tell him. 

It doesn’t take long at all to figure out that neither Clint or Natasha know he’s alive, and it’s supposed to stay that way. 

Seething anger flows through Phil at the thought of them being lied to for so long. He’s always been protective of the Agents assigned to him, but... Those two are special. They’ve been close for years, but… Whenever Phil is thinking too hard, he’ll get a nasty migraine. 

It only confirms further what he’s suspected - something is missing from him. 

Phil wants to reach out to them - he hasn’t been able to see Natasha and Clint since before everything changed, and he’s been missing them ever since. Now, they think he’d dead and Phil isn’t sure if it would be kinder to just let them grieve and move on. He knows for a fact that he would be thrown off, had the roles been reversed. 

‘But I’d still rather know.’ a small voice in the back of his head points out. Then, another headache is hammering in his brain.

At this point, he is almost convinced that this is something intentional - he doesn’t trust medical any more after this.

*+~

They spend the night on a secret SHIELD base instead of the bus, and Phil almost ignores the ping of his personal phone. But habit has him reaching out for it before he’s finished the thought. Too many years of Clint and Nat texting in the middle of the night for both serious and silly reasons have him used to checking it, even though he hasn’t gotten any texts. But then again, most people don’t text dead friends.

When Phil opens up the phone, he almost drops it in surprise. The text is from an unknown number, but the type of code in the message is so deep-seated in his mind, so painfully familiar, it makes his heart ace. But of course, he can still read it. The numbers and letters wouldn’t make any sense to most people, given that the three of them have only ever used it for each other. 

_(What happened in Budapest?)_

It is their usual phrase, their starting point whenever they use this code - just another safety measure. The answer is right there, and Phil types back the usual answer with shaking hands, holding his breath until the phone vibrates again with an answer.

_(Two lose goats, a kidnapping and three dead men.)_

_Phil? You really are alive?!_

This time, it’s not even code - the short text is riddled with typos and it looks like whoever of the two sent it is currently dealing with shaking hands, too. Phil chokes on a stifled laugh, almost turning into a sob. He’s longing to see his two best friends again, and he ditches the code now that they did, as well.

_Yes. And I’m very, very sorry we couldn’t meet after everything._

_We miss you, too. Any chance you can get to the east rooftop?_

The breath hitches in his throat, and Phil is very, very glad that no one else is in this room with him, because he’s overwhelmed with emotions he normally wouldn’t allow himself to show anywhere near SHIELD. But he’s been so very lonely ever since he woke up, and the thought of seeing friendly and familiar faces again is enough to make him emotional right now. He wipes one shaking hand across his face, then he types back,

_I’m on my way._

And a second later, he is - still in his ancient shirt and pyjama pants, glasses haphazardly pushed onto his nose and his thinning hair a hot mess on top of his head. He looks very much human and unlike Agent Coulson - right now, he’s simply Phil.

Miraculously, no one is in the corridors he’s jogging along to get to the rooftop. He is grateful for it, because he really doesn’t want to come up with excuses right now. All he can think is the chance to see Natasha and Clint again.

When he rounds the last corner after climbing a small but steep flight of stairs, he opens the door, and is immediately greeted by two familiar figures stepping into the flickering light of a lamp. 

Neither of the two have changed much in the last few months - some lost weight and added stress lines maybe. Natasha’s hair is longer than he remembers it and Clint has grown a beard but apart from that, the two of them look just like he remembers them. They turn to the door as soon as it opens, and when Phil steps into the light, the look of disbelieving happiness on their faces is only visible for as long as it takes them to cross the rest of the distance and pull him into a tight hug from both sides. 

“You’re alive, you’re really alive.” 

The words are muffled against him, and Phil just hugs them closer, all but melting into the touch. 

It’s been too long, and until a few minutes ago, he didn’t think he’d ever get to do this again. 

*+~

It’s hard to explain this feeling.

One one hand, Phil is incredibly happy and relieved that he’s able to see and talk to his friends again, being able to touch. It feels right, like coming back home.

But the tell tale headache keeps bothering him, and it tells him that there is something he’s missing.

Sometimes, everything feels just right. But sometimes, he can see a strange look on Clints face when he isn’t aware that Phil can see it. Sometimes, it’s like he holds back onto something, stopping himself before he says something. Other times, it’s like he wants to reach out and just stops, thinking better of it.

Phil is lost on why that might be - the two of them have always been close, have been friends for a long time. They have no problem touching each other, casual contact or hugs or leaning against one another. Even now that has not stopped, but sometimes there are those little moments… 

He’s definitely missing something, and it bothers Phil. 

He’s known that parts of him must have been lost, but he is not sure what this has to do with Clint. Years of practise and knowing the other man have taught Phil that Clint is deliberately not talking about something - whenever he asks though, he’ll just force a smile and say everything is alright, only to look incredibly heartbroken whenever Phil has turned his back and only notices this sudden change in window reflections or the corner of his eye.

“I came back wrong.” he says one night, weeks after their first meeting “after”. This is how they refer to timelines now - “before” and “after”. Before the alien attack. After everything changed.

It’s not always easy to find the time to meet, what with the different lives and schedules they work with these days. But the important thing is, they make time - and Phil happily will come back to New York whenever he can. Clint and Nat will travel near him whenever they can, given that Phil is not currently undercover. If he is, they’ll meet him later as to not compromise anything. 

The two of them might be Avengers now, but they’ll never leave the SHIELD operative instincts behind. And they seem to be happy, too. They talk about their team, their missions, and keep inviting Phil over for days off at the tower. 

“Come home” they’ll say, and it makes Phil so very happy to hear them refer to any physical place in that way.

 _Home_ , until very recently, meant exclusively people, not places. He’s glad they’ve found both, now.

“I came back wrong” Phil says, and he is met with Natasha’s green eyes. She holds his gaze and waits for him to keep talking. 

It’s just the two of them right now, as they are waiting for Clint to get back with dinner. He’s offered to go and pick it up since the restaurant is great but doesn’t deliver. They’ve been craving it though, so that’s what they ordered and the words just slip out of Phil before he can stop himself.

“What do you mean?” Natasha asks, gently bumping him with her shoulder and leaning close for a little while. 

“Something is… Missing. I feel like I’m not me, not really. Something that should be there, but it’s not.”

Phil can feel another headache coming up at him - he’s long used to them, but Natasha seems to notice that he’s uncomfortable. She remains close, carefully casually in that special way of hers that tells Phil it’s an attempt to offer comfort without making a big deal out of it. It’s so very much her.

But before she can answer, the door unlocks and Clint shoulders his way in with his arms full of plastic bags which contain something that smells heavenly. 

“Dinner for three!” he announces, and the smile on his face is a real one, but his eyes remain sad and exhausted. It’s not unusual for him to look that way these days, but he puts the food down on the table and throws himself onto the couch seconds later. He lets out a deep breath, head leaned onto Phil’s shoulder, and it makes him feel like something is missing once again.

If he didn’t wake up from a messy nightmare that very same night, Phil would not have heard this part of the conversation in the next room over. 

He’s breathing hard but trying to calm down so he doesn’t wake anyone up, but when he turns to get a glass of water from the kitchen, he can tell that his friends are awake in the living room.

“You need to talk, Clint. I know this is hard but Phil is not okay right now. I know _you’re_ not okay either.”

“I know.” Clint answers, and he sounds miserable. “It’s just- he doesn’t remember. I don’t know if it’s coincidence or intentional on SHIELD’s part. But...” He leaves the sentence hanging in the air, unfinished. 

Phil is suddenly wide awake - he doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, he really doesn't, but he remains still behind the closed door. Whatever it is they’ve kept from him, it is clear that it’s out of worry for him, not something malicious.

“Does it matter?” Natasha shoots back, quietly but urgent. “He knows something is up, something is missing. He said he came back ‘wrong.’ That’s the phrase he used.”

“Fuck.” A unhappy bark of laughter escapes Clint, and Phil can almost see him shaking his head, messing up the back of his hair in a nervous hand motion.

“How am I supposed explain to Phil that he woke up from being fucking dead and forgot 8 years of relationship with me? Imagine waking up and forgetting so many years of your life. This is terrifying.”

Phil feels like somebody punched him in the guts. He stumbles back and needs to lean against the wall as the breath leaves his lungs. 

His heart is racing and yes, _he absolutely is terrified_ \- but it’s also like something clicks into place, fills in the hollow space in his chest that he couldn't sort out before. 

The empty feeling, the knowledge that something significant is missing - the way that Clint stopped talking and stopped himself from reaching out for seemingly no reason, again and again.

The overwhelming feeling of love and being loved back - it’s running through every fiber of his being, with it the panicked realization that he doesn’t remember - and it’s soul crushing.

“What if he doesn’t feel the same anymore? I wouldn’t want to make things harder for him after, well. Everything.”

“Clint, stop. This is your insecurity talking and you know it.”

“Fuck you, Nat.” he spits back, but there is no real heat behind the statement - he sounds more scared - defeated.

“Tell me I’m wrong.” Natasha challenges calmly, and he doesn’t. In fact, the conversation stops completely, and Phil makes his way back to bed - he’s suddenly no longer thirsty.

In the end though, it is Phil who brings it up to Clint the next day. Natasha has excused herself with a tight hug and apologetic smile, “work calls” she’d said, and left the house soon after, leaving the two men alone so they can have a long overdue conversation. 

Clint seems to be on the edge, more so than usually. Phil decides to give him time, but it doesn’t look like he’ll start this conversation. When at some point, he starts describing a intricate bread recipe in great detail to him, Phil stops his rambling.

“Clint?”

“Huh? Yeah, sorry, what?” he blinks at him, as if he’s only just realizing what is happening.

“I’m… Not sure how to start this, but. Last night - I didn’t mean to listen, but I woke up to get some water. I heard you talk.” he confesses silently, and as soon as the words leave his mouth, Clint looks completely deflated. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out this way. Guess I was too scared to talk to you about this - still am, to be perfectly honest.” That last part slips out completely naturally - he didn’t mean to say that, but the years with Phil have gotten him used to being completely open and honest with him - it’s how they worked. While not-talking isn’t technically a lie, it makes Clint feel like he’s been lying to Phil nonetheless.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Slowly, he reaches out to take a hold of his hand, careful to be clear about his movements and intentions. Clint doesn’t pull away. In fact, he looks a bit surprised, but he gently squeezes back when Phil holds his hands. They are strong and rough from years and years of archery and handiwork. They feel like home and right now, they’re shaking.

“Ever since I woke up, I felt like something was wrong. Then you found me.” they hold onto each other a little bit tighter at that, and Phil continues.

“You found me, and I was so happy. _I am incredibly happy_. But something was off and I didn’t know what, and. Last night - it’s like everything just clicked into place. I just wish I could remember…” Phil wants to say more, but his voice is barely more than a whisper at this point. He’s pretty sure, that if Clint hadn’t been staring at him like a deer in the headlights and close enough to read his lips, he definitely wouldn't have been able to pick up the last part.

For a while, it looks like Clint wants to say something but doesn’t know what to say in the first place.

After agonizing minutes of silence, he blurts out,

“I never stopped loving you, Phil.” and it seems like he wants to take it right back, out of fear of being too forward.

But Phil just smiles at him, and it’s the most alive he’s felt in a long time. He can feel his eyes watering, and Clint looks like 5 seconds away from bursting into tears at this point. But he manages not to, returning the smile instead.

“Tell me about us?” Phil asks, gently rubbing his thumb over the calloused hands he’s currently holding and he doesn’t want to let go again. “Maybe it’ll help me. Help us figure out how to keep going from there.”

“I- yeah, okay. I can do that. But Phil-” he still looks him right in the eyes, not completely relaxed yet.

“If this is not what you want anymore, I’ll completely understand. It would be okay.”

To his complete and utter surprise, Phil is still smiling at him. He even scoots closer to him, letting go of Clint’s hands to wrap his arms around him in a loose embrace. Clint seems to be melting into the touch, and he relaxes slightly.

“The feelings are there. I just couldn’t assign them anywhere until recently. And I would love to be reminded of the rest.”

Phil has had time to think about this for the entire rest of the night and all day until now - he is sure about this. As sure as he’s ever been of anything. 

“So, if this is something you’d want - we could start again and make this work. I know I’d like to do this - very much so.” After a moment, Phil adds,

“I love you, Clint. This I know for sure. I just didn’t know it was in a romantic way.”

Those words are the best thing that Clint has heard in a long time - his smile is bright and soft now, even though he is no longer able to hold back the tears that are running free now. 

He doesn’t seem to care, and Phil reaches out to wipe them away with the edge of his sleeve. Their foreheads are touching now, and they remain close like this, simply breathing in each others company. 

It feels like coming home after a very, very long time.

Then, Clint starts running one hand through Phil’s hair, and he hums happily, resting his head on the broad shoulder when Clint starts talking. It reminds Phil how much he loves his voice, and the dry, humorous way in which he tells stories. Especially when it is their own story.

“So, this started out about a decade ago, and both of us managed to successfully pine in secret for roughly two years. Then, there was this christmas party at the New York office and _somebody_ , we’re strongly suspecting Nat but she denies everything, kept spiking the punch throughout the evening. 

It was godawful and should have been disposed of as toxic waste well before 10pm but we kept drinking it, don’t ask why I have no idea. Let’s blame the stress, it’s been a shitty year for everyone. Point is, we kept drinking this sludge and we were both absolutely hammered. I don’t know how, but we ended up piled under the buffet table and fell asleep. 

I swear, everyone thought we’ve been fucking there, but I don’t think either of us would have managed anything at this point. We were asleep under the buffet table piled on top of each other and for some fucking reason both of decided that this has been the best night’s sleep ever. We had breakfast and drank more coffee than we did alcohol the day before, instant regret and everything, but we started sharing a bed more and more often after that, and then…”

*+~

Square: "Came back wrong"

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings:
> 
> \- Temporary death  
> \- Amnesia  
> \- Probably gaslighting  
> \- Self doubts  
> \- PTSD  
> \- Dealing with loss  
> \- Dealing with a near death experience (technically coming back from the dead)  
> \- Mention of alcohol and being drunk but not in a violent way


End file.
